


The Scent of Magic

by dazebras



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: Dry Orgasm, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Magic, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Potions, Recreational Drug Use, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen, Spells & Enchantments, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazebras/pseuds/dazebras
Summary: With a plot against the young king afoot, Sarkan and Agnieszka are called back to Kralia to determine if there is any chance a last corrupted fragment of the Wood still lives in the capital.  However, Agnieszka may have gotten more than she bargained for when Sarkan reveals that the potion they are using to scry for it has some undiscussed side effects.Written for the 2018 Uprooted Fic-a-thon: Enchanted theme.





	The Scent of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you concerned, everything in this is entirely consensual. I marked it "sex pollen" and "Drug use" for warning/filtering purposes, but it's not 100% either of those things.

The prince--now the king--had returned to Kralia. Though young, he was attentive to his lessons on how to lead, reported Kasia’s letter. Yet, as Sarkan assured her, anytime there was a weak king, crafty men and women would try to snatch his power for themselves. Already, there were rumors of a plot against the young ruler. The Wood had been stable these last years, owing to Agnieszka and Sarkan’s careful tending. Yet there was the chance, always the chance, that something had slipped by them. Which is how they, as Polyna’s foremost experts on the Wood’s magic, had been called to Kralia and forced to attend this awful dinner party.

Agnieszka had not forgotten the last time she’d been to a capital party. But though she was loath to gussy herself up and make nice with the most intolerable people in the nation, they had to know for sure that there was no magical threat. Sarkan had given her an ointment he’d modified to reproduce some of the effects of the Summoning. She was to apply it to the pulse points on her wrists like perfume. If there was anyone affected by the Wood, the corruption inside them would smell the potion and be helplessly drawn to the surface of the victim.

But after hours of small talk that flew in circles around her, a nauseatingly rich meal, and no leads, Agnieszka was forced to conclude that this ordeal was nothing short of dreadfully boring.

She caught Sarkan staring at her from across the parlor. His piercing eyes carried more heat than usual, and she quickly turned back to her conversation partner before she could catch a reprimand for not paying attention. Not fast enough, for he was soon marching through the crowd of minglers straight up to her.

“Excuse me,” he said dismissively to the woman Agnieszka had been listening to prattle on about some other courtier’s fashion faux pas. “I need to speak with Agnieszka for a moment.”

He grabbed her elbow, his grip just shy of painful, and hauled her out of the ballroom, heedless of how her billowy gown made it difficult to hurry without tripping. She nearly took a tumble when her toe caught on her front hem, saved only by his hold on her. The delay made him more impatient. "Did no one ever teach you to walk correctly?"

"Slow down," she huffed. "I'm coming, aren't?"

He made a small strangled noise that was just far enough off from his usual displeased grunt for Agnieszka to take notice. What had gotten into him this evening? She supposed he had not spent much time around court society since he had moved back to the valley with her after the Wood's destruction, and he always had been a recluse before then. Surely he was not so rude in polite company all the time. Not that she would know, after her debacle last time she had been in the capital, what the rules for court society were. But she was fairly certain it didn't involve marching young women into secluded hallways and pinning them up against the wall.

Her shoulders met the cool stone a little roughly, but that was more because she was too caught off guard to catch herself than because Sarkan had truly shoved her. He immediately crowded into her space, his hands planted on the stonework near her shoulders, his chest brushing against her bosom, his nose buried in her hair.

"What's gotten into you?" Not that she was complaining. Not that she stopped herself from sliding her hands under the back of his waistcoat. 

“I wanted a private moment with you. Is that so surprising to you.”

"I didn't take you for the type to try to tumble a girl in a back hall."

"I'm not. You're right." He didn't seem to register her surprise at this admission. When he pulled back, his dark eyes were glazed and dilated. "Let's go home. We've heard enough to know we won't find anything here tonight."

It was unlike Sarkan to leave a job half-finished, but she supposed his assessment was correct. She hadn't caught a single glimpse of the Wood's influence, even with the help of Sarkan's ointment. It was more likely the plot was a common human's enterprise, and thus left to better experts than the two of them. Besides, Sarkan was clearly flushed, and his eyes a shade too glassy. If he were feeling ill, it would be better to care for him back at home.

"Alright.," she agreed, pushing his hair back from his brow to feel his forehead as her mother did when she was small and sick. "Let's get you home and put you to bed."

Sarkan only clutched her tighter and buried his head in her shoulder as he whispered the words to take them back to his renovated tower.

They appeared on the landing outside his library--one of the more convenient adjustments they had made in rebuilding. From there it wasn't far for him to tug her up the stairs to the bedchambers they shared when she stayed in the tower. Her gown made the steps difficult, her progress too slow for Sarkan's taste. He growled the words for a spell to lighten a weight and stooped low and slung her over his shoulder like a child before hurrying up the stairs. She grumbled in protest, the indignity making her cheeks flush. 

She was busy enough formulating her complaints against his ridiculousness that she hardly noticed the rest of the trip to the bed chamber. She returned to her senses when he dropped her on the bed with a bounce. He backed away to strip out of the formal robes he wore, revealing the slim waistcoat and handsome shirt he wore beneath it--finery, even when out of public sight.

"Sarkan," she said, the fire of his name warming her lips pleasantly. "You aren't behaving as yourself." He was eager, more so than usual. He wanted her frequently, when in private, when they had no other work to do. It was not like him to be overwhelmed with lust when they had other responsibilities. He was always in command of himself, cool and calm. And there was also that glossy sheen to his eyes, and his cheeks were red with fever, a faint sheen of sweat dampening the dark hair at his temple. "You don't look well." 

"I promise, I am perfectly well." His eyes traced the lines of her body, the weight of his gaze so heavy she could almost feel it trail over her thighs, even as he went about stripping his other clothes. His hands shook preventing his usual efficiency. 

"No, you're not," she said firmly. "You've been behaving strangely all evening. You hardly paid attention during dinner. And now you look as though you'll be sick soon, but you can't seem to keep your hands off me. It started as soon as I put that ointment on." The realization hit her like a strike of lightning. "It was that potion! It's doing something to you."

She stood and tried to rush to the wash basin that stood on a delicately carved table along the wall. He caught her about the waist pulled her flush against his chest, one arm wrapped tightly about her hips to secure her and the other hand gripping her shoulder. She could feel the firm line of his cock pressed against her back side.

"You utterly impossible woman. I would not have given you a concoction if I didn't know the full extent of its powers."

She pushed away from him. Never let it be said that she accepted wisdom at face value without an explanation. "You knew it would do this to you?"

He sighed, surprisingly pouty at being caught out, and backed away to sit on the edge of the bed. "Yes. In addition to the effects I described to you initially, the ointment works as something of an aphrodisiac to wizards when worn by someone else of magical power." He cleared his throat and looked away in as much abashment as he ever showed. "I will admit that it is somewhat more potent than I had imagined. Perhaps its influence corresponds to the power of the one wearing it."

Or perhaps it worked better in concert with her curious magic than the rigid spells of other wizards, she mused. But now was not time for such thoughts. "What if Solya had come to the dinner?"

"Then I imagine he would have been quite surprised," he answered drily. At her uncomfortable expression, he hastened to reassure her, "I did take care to make sure that he wasn't present. Though, I am not sure what he and the king made of my excuses."

That was something of a relief at least. 

"So the ointment makes you... more interested than usual?"

He raised a single manicured eyebrow at her attempts at delicate phrasing. "That is one way to put it. Though, it is not quite an accurate summation of its scope. It additionally makes the wearer seem to be the most attractive person within sight, making any susceptible person who takes in your scent entranced by you."

"That's horrible!" She didn't want him to desire her because of some spell or potion. The way he described the compulsion toward her, made her feel... as if she was taking advantage of him if she accepted her attention. Surely she needed to leave or at least wash off the lingering ointment. "I won't take part in this as a side effect of using the ointment for of our mission. I'll go back to my old room for the night and bar the door. You needn't worry." She longed to reassure him that, even if he begged her, she wouldn't take advantage of him when he wasn't in his right mind. She turned to leave. "Goodnight."

"Nieszka," he said. When she turned back, he was looking down at his clasped hands that did nothing to hide the way his cock strained against the laces of his trousers. "I should have spoken to you about it before. I didn't just suggest the ointment for it's practical effects. I thought it might be a bit of fun."

"Fun? How can it be fun to have no say in who you desire?"

"Because, you thick-skulled imbecile," he said, some of his old fire returning, "I already desire you. Every moment of the day. I thought it might be enjoyable for you to see how much, with my inhibitions loosened. And for my part, the concoction both increases stamina and reduces refractory time by a great measure."

The possibilities bloomed before her. Sarkan always did plenty to ensure that she was satisfied, but she felt guilty sometimes for wanting beyond what he was easily able to provide every night. "That sounds like a benefit for both of us."

She could feel the heat begin to build in her lower stomach, the way it always did when Sarkan looked at her like that, with lust in his eyes. She realized then that he had been staring at her in desire all night. She had thought it was just wanting to keep track of if she was giving him a subtle clue that she had found their quarry. 

"Poor man," she said with a mocking pout. "You must have been hard all night. No wonder you were so distracted."

Her words just earned her a scowl that quickly faded as she stalked over to him. Though it was too quiet to be audible, she could feel his breath coming unnaturally fast when she leaned over him, just out of reach of the kiss he tried to plant on her. "No, no, my love. If we are going to do this tonight, you are going to use your words to tell me what you want."

He wet his lips, and she couldn't keep her eyes from tracing the movement. "You are being decidedly cruel." She could tell by the warm timbre of his voice that it was even less of a complaint than usual. 

"Well?"

He huffed and began stripping out of his shirt again. "I want to touch you. Will that suffice?"

It would for now. With the help of a short spell, she rid herself of that horrible ribboned gown in no time at all and joined him naked on the bed. They fell together in a familiar embrace. He mouthed at the column of her neck, sucking a mark at the pulse point that left her gasping. With a long lick, he was taking her earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently in a way that made her toes curl. 

"You smell incredibly good," he whispered against her, a confession just for her. 

She pulled back and smiled fondly at him. She could tell the people from her village wondered sometimes how she could love someone as surly as Sarkan, but they didn't know how he used his temper to hide himself. How he would divest himself of this armor for her piece by piece just as he removed his clothes. 

She threw herself back against the luxurious pile of pillows he'd taken to keeping at the head of the bed. Her hair flew about her in a halo. She knew from experience that it would get in the way later, but she could tell from the way Sarkan drank in the full sight of her that she didn't look too silly. "Well," she said, stretching her arms above her head coyly, "you said you wanted to to touch me."

He started with a delicate stroke down her chest, trailing between her breasts and past her navel. The subtle tremble of his hand belied the true force of his desire and what it took for him to hold back. Even now, having done this to himself on purpose, he was struggling to keep himself under control. Her foolish Sarkan. She would get him to break. Oh, yes, she was enjoying this now. Enjoying the idea of taking him apart.

Enjoying the feel of his mouth on her breast. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her hip bone, expertly keeping the pressure just the right side of ticklish. He licked and licked at at her nipples, alternating between long, flat strokes and quick flicks until she could feel the wetness growing between her legs.

"Sarkan," she whined. Her plea earned her a final kiss to her breast and then that glorious mouth of his was traveling down her body. He nipped at the ridge of her rib cage. Nuzzled at the cradle of her hips where they met her body. She wrapped her thighs around her shoulders and stroked one foot down his side--partly to urge him on, partly just to feel his smooth skin.

When his mouth finally met her need, he groaned aloud, easily drowning out the hitch of her breath. He started low, ignoring her clit for the moment, paying close attention to her opening but never yet dipping inside. After a few moments, she threaded her fingers through his thick hair and gave a gentle tug to encourage him to move on to where she wanted. He continued his teasing ministrations until she grabbed him by the back of his head and ground her clit against his tongue. He huffed a laugh and quickly grabbed her hips with both hands to keep her from chasing her own high. She growled in frustration, but that quickly turned into mewls of pleasure as he continued.

Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, barely receding before she was shaking with a second as Sarkan held her still. It wasn't until she pushed his head away to give her a chance to catch her breath that she realized he was grinding himself against the bed sheets. He rested his head against her thighs and stared down at her as he brought his thumb to slowly caress her opening.

"Sarkan." It took her a moment to get his attention, so single minded was his focus. "Sarkan, please."

He slipped the tip of his thumb inside her, circling gently just inside. Either the slick feel of her or the sound of subsequent her moan had his hips hitching out of their rhythm against the sheets. Finally having enough of his own teasing, he pressed all the way inside her. At Agnieszka's frantic patting of his shoulder, he replaced his mouth over her clit, his tongue keeping time with his rhythm of his fingers. Soon she was close to that plateau again. She dug her nails into the meat of his shoulder as she shook. The extra sensation was enough to drive him over the edge of his own cliff. His hips thrust with abandon against the bed as he came. 

After a moment of panting wetly against her, he lifted his head to look at her a bit sheepishly. "Did...?"

She shook her head but tugged him up to meet her. His face was wet with her slick, but she kissed him anyway, enjoying the taste of her own desire.

"Sorry. Here," he mumbled against her lips as he pressed two fingers easily inside her. "Give me just a moment, and I'll be ready again."

She didn't understand what he meant for a moment--his quick little jabs against that delicious little spot inside her were quite distracting. But when she trailed her hand down his body, she found that his erection still bobbed hard and ready between his thighs. Deliriously, she wondered if she could manufacture that ointment by the bucket.

It didn’t take long for him to stretch her wide enough to accommodate his cock. He slid inside her one long stroke. The feel of him shivering in her arms as he waited for her to adjust and the knowledge of how hard he tried to make this good for her even while being driven by such a primal need had Agnieszka wrapping her thighs around his hips and pressing little kisses to the underside of his jaw. 

“Please tell me you’re ready.” She rolled her hips in answer, the friction making them both cry out.

He set a rough pace. With every thrust, his cock drove in deep, gliding right across that spot along her inner walls that had her seeing stars. When he sat back on his knees and pressed his thumb to her clit, she could feel herself gush with wetness that leaked past his cock onto the bed. She came again, and the clench of her had Sarkan following soon after. He paused for a moment, and Agnieszka expected him to pull out. Instead he rallied, a devious little grin on his face, and beganfucking her once again, his release mixing with her own fluids inside her to slick the way.

Agnieszka shoved at his shoulders, locking her foot around his leg and rolling with him as she pushed. With some doing, she managed to keep them from separating as she flipped herself on top of him. She sat with her length pressed deep inside her. In this position, she was able to both feel him pressed against her inner walls and grind her clit against his pelvis. She circled her hips slowly, teasingly, focused entirely on her own pleasure. She could feel the combined fluids of her own wetness and his semen slip out around his cock. 

He watched with dark, round eyes, utterly lost in the rock of her hips. He clutched frantically at her, unable to decide where to leave his hands. He cupped her swaying breasts, stroked the curve of her ass, tangled his fingers in the mess of her curls. Finally he gave up on trying to touch her all at once and clutched the pillow beneath his head with both hands and hung on for dear life as she began to ride him in earnest. She flicked his nipples back and forth until they formed hard little points. She ran her hands along his arms, stroking the pale underside from elbow to shoulder. Eventually she leaned forward and planted her forearms on the bed allowing her more leverage to fuck herself up and down on his cock. He planted his feet on the bed so that he could meet her thrusts. He came inside her with a strangled moan, and a desperate moment later, she did as well.

She lay there on top of him for a minute. He stroked her hair, a vain attempt to tame it. Slowly their breathing evened out. Agnieszka could hear his heartbeat slow under her ear. She carefully climbed off of him. With a soft hum she sent magic swirling around them to clean the worst of the mess. The sheets were still a lost cause though. 

He grunted at the magic’s tingle. Amazingly, he was still hard. Well, just because she was fully sated, didn't mean there was nothing she could do for him.

"Do you want to come again?"

Sarkan looked down at himself speculatively. "I'm not sure I can."

She grinned. "I think you can." She crawled over him, allowing her breasts to trail teasingly along his chest. "Will you try for me?"

He swallowed thickly, and Agnieszka could feel his heart rate pick back up where she was pressed against him. “Yes.”

She shuffled back, avoiding the wet spots that were gradually melding into something more approaching a puddle. Gently she took his sensitive cock in hand. even that light touch pulled a gasp from him. Tucking her hair behind her ears., she started with soft licks around the shaft in long swipes from base to just below the crown. He still tasted like the two of them. She reached one hand down to gently fondle his balls, drawing a moan from deep in his chest. He was panting, even from this. Here was where she was going to take him apart beneath her mouth as he had done earlier. She lapped at the sensitive spot beneath the crown, causing him to buck up into the hand she had holding him by the shaft. He shuddered at the sensation. She traced her tongue narrowed into a point along the slit. She wrapped her lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. 

“Wait!”

SHe drew back immediately. "Are you okay?" 

He nodded, out of breath. "Just... gently."

She hummed in agreement and returned to her task. She slid her mouth down and up the length of his cock, appling no suction just yet, simply coating his length with her saliva and stroking random patterns along the shaft with her tongue. She worked him slowly, using her hand loosely in tandem with her mouth along the rest of him. She coaxed sound after sound from him, his moans high and thready. The weight of him on her tongue almost had her wanting him again. It took longer for him to reach orgasm this time. When he did, sobbing her name and thrashing against her hold, it was with only a trickle of semen.

She collapsed back onto the bed beside him, and they there for a quiet moment, both utterly spent.

"Are you finished now?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "No more, please."

She rolled over on her side to study the sharp planes of his face. "Was that what you had wanted?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye then turned and kissed her deeply, passionately. "Yes. I enjoyed myself. I hope you did as well."

"I did. I was thinking," she said, "next time, maybe you should try wearing the ointment."

He shook his head ruefully. "You're insatiable enough already. I doubt I'd be able to keep up."

"Well," she said, nipping playfully at his jaw, "that's no reason not to try."


End file.
